Fateful Phone Call
by ShellGrad
Summary: Jane goes to Lisbon's after she calls him to find Red John dying and Lisbon injured. Eventual Jisbon to come.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own (nor will I probably ever own) The Mentalist or any of it's characters.**

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><p>A phone call. It all started with a phone call that half of him expected to get one day while the other half tried to live in blissful ignorance. But he knew as soon as he heard her voice that he didn't need to know anything she had to say to make him rush over to her apartment.<p>

When he got there, it looked as though nothing was out of the ordinary and yet he felt such a heavy sense of cold and dread to his very core. He went to her front door and knocked. He heard a muffled "it's open" and turned the door knob. Fear enveloped him at the sound of her numb voice. The door slowly opened (_dramatic much?_ He couldn't help thinking) to reveal Teresa Lisbon, tough CBI agent sitting on the floor with her back against the side of the couch, one arm around her knees that were firmly tucked into her chest while the other lay limp on the floor next to her CBI issued Glock.

He took a moment to observe her, too unnerved to move. She was shaking slightly and there were tear tracks on her cheeks. He finally stepped over to her. "Lisbon?" He crouched in front of her, trying to look in her eyes. There was fear but she didn't quite seem to be in this world, like she was in an entirely different place.

She continued to stare at a spot on the floor as she spoke, again with a slight numbness to her voice…and dread? She was scared, he could tell…but not just about what apparently had happened before she called him. It was almost like she was scared of his reaction. "I called the police already. They're on the way. You got here quick." Her voice seemed to get stuck on a lump in her throat on the last sentence and she quickly cleared her throat, looking away though she never caught his gaze in the first place.

"What happened?" He kept his voice calm and his gaze intense, like if he looked away, she'd spring to her feet and so far, so fast that no one would be able to find her ever again, including him.

"He isn't dead yet." Puzzlement filled his face for a moment until he heard a ragged, gurgling breath from afar. He looked and saw a man laying on her the other side of her living room floor, a pool of blood underneath him and a butcher knife halfway between the dying man and Lisbon. He wondered for a brief moment how he hadn't noticed the man before. But then he figured the numbness in Lisbon's voice could explain his lack of attention to detail. It was then that he noticed Lisbon was facing away from the dying man like she couldn't bear to look at him. But it was more than that. It was hard to believe that the dying man would be able to see Lisbon from where he was. Was she shielding herself from him? Why? Why would Lisbon go to such extremes to put such distance between herself and someone she clearly shot out of self-defense?

"I'm not a killer. I don't like killing people," she whispered softly. The last sentence clearly was an attempt to answer Jane's unasked question but he couldn't help noticing that the first was most likely a mantra she'd been repeating to herself ever since the scene ended.

"Of course not, dear." He said calmly, turning his full attention to her. "I hate to point it out, but you have shot people in the line of duty before, my dear Lisbon. You clearly shot this man out of self-defense. So, clearly you are not so much disturbed by the action of shooting this man, who I must point out is still alive, therefore not making you a killer at all. No, this has something more to do with who that man is." He looked into her eyes and saw he was half-right. "Something he said to you." He tried again and was awarded with Lisbon's head snapping up at him with such terror in her eyes that he was shocked into silence momentarily. It looked as if she was fighting off a flashback so he spoke again. He hated the words he had to say, he hated his need to know. "What did he say?" he asked with quiet intensity.

She had just begun to slowly shake her head, willing him and the whole scene to disappear when Cho's voice interrupted their moment from the doorway. "Boss?" his face and voice impassive as ever.

Jane stood up and was about to speak when Lisbon spoke, again staring at a spot on the floor a few feet in front of her. "The Red John Case is yours. I have to be taken off of it. He's over there," she pointed without looking at the now barely alive man. "I don't know if he's dead yet."

Jane walked over to him. The dying man turned his head and looked at him. A smile graced his face before he spoke. "Mr. Jane, we meet again. Congratulations. The new woman you've chosen to love is a worthy opponent unlike your wife, who so willingly gave her life in the belief that I wouldn't harm your already dead pretty little girl." He let his words sink in before uttering a final "Tyger, tyger." And just like that, the last of the light left his cold eyes.

Though they all heard the exchange, Lisbon continued her orders as if the interruption had never happened after a couple of minutes' silence. "I'll give you my statement as soon as I'm done. Is the ambulance outside?" Cho simply nodded, his no longer impassive but simply blank, as if he couldn't believe the scene before him. Jane looked back at her as she nodded. She seemed hesitant and the two men waited for her to continue, knowing that whatever she said next was obviously difficult for her to say. "I-I'll need some help standing up."

Jane swiftly moved in front of her and took her arms to gently pull her up. That was when he noticed the deep red stain on her shirt and he suddenly realized why she had been sitting the way she had. She was not only trying to find some comfort but also trying to protect her stomach. He turned her toward the door and decided to let her lead at her own pace.

Unfortunately, he unknowingly put her in between him and the now dead man that he had known for so long as Red John. As they made their way to the door, Jane stopped and was startled as Lisbon suddenly shrieked at the top of her lungs. "GET THAT WRETCHED MARK OFF OF MY FLOOR!" Jane turned wide-eyed to see a bloody smile drawn on the carpet beside the dead man, blood on his fingers. He used every biofeedback trick in the book to stop himself from hyperventilating and led Lisbon to the awaiting EMTs, ignoring the stares of her fellow neighbors. He supported her with one arm and gently stroked her hair with the other. "Shh, it's okay," he murmured over and over again in her ear until he released her into the care of the paramedics.

He rode along silently in the back of the ambulance, wondering just what had happened all the way to the hospital. Obviously, Red John had picked the wrong little lady as his next victim. However, he hardly thought Agent Lisbon was picked as coincidence or because she was getting too close to solving the case. None of them were close to finding him. No, Lisbon was picked for the very reason Red John had stated before he died. But _how_? How did Red John know he had come to love Lisbon? They had never spent the night together. They had never even kissed.

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><p><strong>There is a reason I am not describing Red John. I think it's best that anyone who writes about Red John should allow others to conjure up his description in their own mind until the writers of the show finally gives us a real Red John. I would love to continue this but I want to know if anyone will want to read it.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

**Thanks for all of the supportive reviews I got and all of the story alerts and favorites. It really brightens my day.**

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><p>Cho let the file drop on the table in front of Jane on the table. "His name is Neil Conard. Not only is he Red John, but it seems he has some connection to 'The Coed Killer'. Seems he may have done something similar as with Frye and hypnotized him into thinking he was the real killer. Kemper turned himself in to the police in 1973. He may have also been connected to the 'Hillside Strangler' from '77 to '78. He could also be linked to the Ford-Humboldt County murders in '98. After that, we believe he formed the identity of Red John."<strong> (AN: These are real serial killers in California. I am not saying they are not responsible for those murders. I just found the cases interestingly similar to Red John and was inspired by Timothy Carter's line: "I go by many names.")<strong>

"Of course," he mumbled, "He needed to form his own identity, become his own person." Jane scanned the paperwork of previous cases and pictures of old crime scenes.

"There's more, Jane." The man in question looked up to find Cho staring at him, slightly uneasy as to how to continue.

"Well, what is it, Cho?"

The Agent sighed and dropped a series of crime scene plastic bags on top of the still open file. Jane reached for closest bag to find a clean, typed, black and white letter similar to the one he found taped to the bedroom door that night years ago. Jane softly gasped. "He meant to leave this for me. He was going to kill her and leave this for me."

He turned his head to the smaller bags. Each with an individual photo of him and Lisbon, sometimes separate, sometimes together, on their cases. "He's followed me all this time. Not only did he bother to get a mole on the inside. He had me followed every time I set foot out of the CBI. He said I loved Lisbon. Not a single one of these photos show me anywhere near her apartment except those times we met as a team, during the Carmen case, and when I went to ask her about that twit Bertram appointed to replace her."

He heard Cho scoff before heading back to his desk to bury his head in his latest book. Jane looked up then. "What?"

"Have you seen yourself in those photos?" Jane took a closer look.

"See that look of adoration and amusement?" Jane heard Van Pelt from her desk.

Cho and Rigsby fixed her with a look that made it clear she ruined their bet of how long it would take Jane to figure it out. She rolled her eyes. "It's been over a decade since they've known each other, guys. If he hasn't had an epiphany by now, he's not going to."

Rigsby chimed in then. "Seriously, man. You're always 5 steps ahead of us. How did you not know?"

"10 steps," Jane retorted absentmindedly. "And of course I knew I loved her. I just didn't know it had become apparent. Besides, see me opening the door and the hand on the small of her back? I do that for every woman, Rigsby. It's called being chivalrous. Perhaps you should try it sometime. It works wonders."

"How come you aren't at the hospital?" Rigsby grumbled.

"Same reason all of you aren't: she kicked me out."

Cho scoffed and fixed him with that unwavering stare. "Since when do you listen?"

"Well, she is my boss for intents and purposes." All three agents stared skeptically at the consultant who was looking carefully at each picture, scrutinizing every detail. He looked up at the sensation of everyone staring at him. "So what if I'm here? I can do more for her here than I can in some stuffy hospital room."

Cho called his bluff again. "You choose Red John over her."

"You can't choose someone who's dead."

"Sure you can. You've been doing it ever since Red John killed your family." Jane angrily met Cho's stare, the other two agents visibly uncomfortable but afraid to move in the tension heavy air.

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><p><strong>I SOOO did not want to make such a tense moment but my fiance convinced me to just let it happen instead of deleting it. As usual, let me know what you think. Not entirely sure where this story is going but I'm excited about to find out when it gets there!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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><p>She walked through the door and dropped her stuff on the floor like she always did. She felt exhausted, as usual. They had just finished a particularly difficult case. Jane was having a hard time getting a read on people. She always knew cases that came up around this time of year were going to be a pain in the ass. He couldn't focus. And even though she felt a little guilty about it, she became frustrated with him every year. She knew it was because the anniversary of his family's death was approaching but she willed him to just get over it already! The drunk driver that killed her mother walked away just as Red John had never been caught. But she didn't let it affect her every year. There was a job to be done, and she'd do it. There was a life to be lived. Sure, she may not go out a lot but she did have a life, even if that life was dedicated to the job.<p>

She dropped her keys in a bowl by the door and shrugged out of her jacket as she made her way to the couch. She threw the jacket to the side and plopped down. She reached for the table lamp when a rough hand grabbed her wrist. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." She stifled a gasp and reached for her gun on her hip. It wasn't there.

"_Where is your gun, Teresa?"_

She looked around frantically for the second voice. "It's beside the door. I took it off," she heard herself answer. She panicked for a moment before realizing that the man who grabbed her hand hadn't heard the exchange at all. She felt a tiny flit of fear of what was happening but immediately felt completely calm and safe. '_Safe? This is not a situation to be safe in!'_ a small voice in the back of her brain practically screamed at her. She snapped her head around and jumped up off the couch.

Her living room slowly disappeared and the reality of the beeping machines and white walls of the hospital room came back into focus. She looked beside her to find Jane staring at her with a puzzled expression. "How did you do that?" he asked.

"How could _you_ do _that_?" she whispered, her eyes glassy. He knew in that instant he broke every shred of trust she had in him.

Seeing he wasn't going to attempt to defend his actions, she finally averted her gaze. "Get out," she whispered.

He didn't move. "Get out," she said more loudly.

He still didn't budge. "GET OUT!" she yelled.

They both sat and stared at each other, neither wanting to lose the battle of wills. Finally, Jane stood and walked to the door. He stopped just in front of it and turned around. "You need to talk about it sometime. When that time comes, I'll be here." He waited for some acknowledgement that she had heard him. "Let me help you." He said quietly with a hint of begging.

"I have talked about it." She caught his eye. "In my witness statement. Cho took it. Alone." She cocked her head to the side. "You weren't here."

He looked away. "Cho and I had a mild disagreement." She snorted. He looked back at her. "He tell you?"

"Nope." He continued to stare. "But I'm not surprised."

"You'll talk about it with Cho but you won't talk about it with me because it's just a witness statement. Cold, official business."

"Yes, it's exactly that."

"No sarcastic retort?"

"No, I'm tired, Jane."

He remained quiet for a few moments, contemplating the possible meanings of such a seemingly simple sentence. "You don't want me to know. Why?"

She thought it over for a minute. "If I ever _do_ want you to know, it's better that _I_ tell you. How many times have I told you that hypnotizing someone against their will is illegal and unethical? And you wonder why I don't trust you. How can I trust you when you pull stunts like this?"

He inwardly sighed. First Cho, now Lisbon. Somehow he _would_ get out of this shit-storm he created around him, all because some sadistic SOB decided to attack his little firecracker. _Which reminds me_, he thought. "I'm proud of you."

Confusion flooded her face. "What?"

"I'm proud of you. You did a great thing, Lisbon. I know you wanted him to get a fair trial – "

" – and you wanted to kill him with your bare hands."

"We don't always get what we want. Nevertheless, you did a great thing. It may have not happened the way either of us wanted but it ended the way it should have. And before you go and say that he should be spending life in prison, remember that nothing can change what's already happened. You've saved many women from meeting a gruesome fate so you can still remain Saint Teresa even if you consider yourself responsible for the death of someone." He walked out before seeing the scowl he knew was there and hearing the retorts she was working up.

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><p><strong>Hope all of US readers had a wonderful Thanksgiving. UGH! Jane has gotten into a heap of trouble. Shame on him! But, not to fear, I will get him out of it...even if I don't quite know how yet. Review please :) It inspires me. And with inspiration, comes updates.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. **

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><p>*<em>Ding dong<em>*

Jane lay on the mattress underneath the familiar, gory smiley. He contemplated not answering the doorbell. It was probably just another new real estate agent who hadn't heard the story behind the unsellable house. When he had first explained to a real estate agent that he meant to find (and kill, though he conveniently left that part out) the man responsible for murdering his wife and child, it hadn't taken long for word to spread around one agency then another to steer clear of the deceivably beautiful Malibu beach house. It was unsellable, a real estate agent's nightmare to have to sell a house where a murder (of a wife and child, no less) had taken place. Of course, there was always the new, young hot shot who didn't hear the story behind _why_ the house was unsellable and set out to do what so many others couldn't (or wouldn't is more like it).

*_Ding dong_*

Jane looked at the time on his cell phone and sighed. It had been 10 minutes since the last chime. Only one person could be that persistent in trying to get him out of his house of horrors. Lisbon. It had been a little less than a week since he'd last seen her and a week since he'd last been to the CBI. After his confrontation with Cho, he'd picked up his journals from the attic and the rest of his stuff and headed to his little house of horrors. He'd stayed there only a day, trying to make sense of it all, trying to grasp that it was really over, and tried to reach closure before he realized that he couldn't reach closure without knowing just what had happened.

He went to Lisbon's apartment and stared at the scene in the living room for a few hours, waiting for something to happen. Waiting to feel something – anything – that was different in any way at all. A lightness. Anger. Sorrow. But he didn't feel any of that. Something was missing. Lisbon was missing. Something had happened between the two. Red John had obviously chosen to play killer whale this time, an obvious mistake with a cop like Lisbon. There was only one way to get over this. Unfortunately, that way involved hurting the one person who had been there for me every time. The woman he had come to love despite all the reasons not to. He had spent the rest of the day and night in the extended stay hotel weighing the consequences. Despite what the entire CBI thought, he did think all of his actions and plans through. It wasn't his fault that it took them a great deal longer to come to the same conclusions as he did.

In the end, he had decided to go to her. He doubted she'd open up and tell him what had happened. She hardly ever opened up to him. He'd had no choice but to hypnotize her. He'd gotten to the hospital to find her asleep and alone in her room. No sign of the team or her brothers. He'd been correct in assuming she hadn't told her brothers of the situation (no doubt waiting until she was completely healed, allowing her to downplay the whole thing and upholding the tough, caretaker role she had in what was left of their family). He had known she would have kicked the team out. Cho would have been loyal to her orders and worked the case with everything he had in him, probably feeling he owed her that much since it had been her case for so long and she had only been taken off because she had been attacked by the serial killer himself. That would make her a victim (not that that particular word could ever be applied to her) and victims weren't allowed to work their own cases. She'd been shot by O'Laughlin but was still able to stay on the case since he was merely a sidekick who'd served his purpose.

*_Ding dong_*

He sighed. Why did they make doorbells so incessantly irksome? **(AN: HAD to use his word…don't know why but I love it when he says irksome...okay, back to the story)** He finally got up off the mattress and made his way to the front door, closing the bedroom door before making his way down the stairs. If she did come inside, he had no intention of letting her see that gruesome smile.

He heard her voice just as his foot hit the last stair. "Jane! I know you're in there! If you don't open this door right now, so help me I will – " She was cut off by the door suddenly opening.

"You'll what, Lisbon?" he asked with his most charming smile in place.

"Or I'll be forced to drink this tea as well as my coffee and I can't hold my bladder waiting outside your house all day. And don't say I could go to the gas-station down the street because a) there is no gas-station just down the street, your house is secluded, and b) I am not leaving this house just so you can leave while I'm gone and you continue to avoid me."

"Either I'm off my game of you're getting much better at this, my little mouse." He took the cup of tea she offered to him and moved aside to let her in.

"I'm the mouse, am I? Suitable, I guess since you're the one with the Cheshire grin. However, since you're the one getting punched more often than not and I'm the one tackling suspects, I think I'd be more suited as the cat and you the mouse."

"A fierce CBI kitten, perhaps; but in our little game of wits, my dear, I have always been the cat and you the mouse." She couldn't help the smile that formed on her face as their banter resumed full force. She had actually missed it in the near-week they had spent apart.

They had made their way to the bare kitchen and he leaned against the counter, sipping his tea. He motioned for her to go ahead and sit on the counter. He knew he had kept her waiting quite some time judging by the lukewarm tea. And of course she was wearing those ridiculous heeled boots she had a tendency to wear when returning to work after being shot. Why she chose to wear them here, though, was a bit of a mystery since she clearly was not going to work today and, despite what she might think and regardless of the fact they were on his territory so to speak, she clearly had the upper hand here.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure, Lisbon?" he asked once she had taken her seat on the kitchen counter and absentmindedly started swinging her legs back in forth. He briefly imagined what she must've looked like when she was younger, before her mother died. How many times had she sat on the kitchen counter, swinging her legs as she did now, relaying her school day as her mother prepared dinner? No, that would be for another time. Now it was much more important to hear what she had to say. Was the tea a peace offering of sorts? After all, she had made it perfectly.

"You haven't been to bother me in so long I thought something must be wrong." One look at him standing there told him that the playful banter was over. She internally sighed. "You haven't attempted to hypnotize me or actually _ask_ me," she briefly glared at him pointedly, "what happened. You _also_ haven't been lending your expertise to helping the team hunt down Red John's allies." She paused to look him straight in the eye so he knew she was making her point. "What the hell are you doing up here?"

No, his tough little Lisbon took no prisoners (figuratively speaking, of course) when it came to him and his tendency to curl up and away from the rest of the world. He smiled bitterly at the thought. "What would you like me to say, dear Lisbon?"

"Patrick," he looked up at his first name to see her standing in front of him, "this is not okay."

"I do believe that has become your signature phrase in these situations, Teresa." He said softly, not quite ready to give up evading her interrogation.

She turned on her heel and he thought for a moment she was going to leave. But she wouldn't give up that easily. She sat back on the counter and sighed. "Okay, tell you what. I'll tell you something and you tell me something. We each ask one question at a time and the other has to answer honestly."

He looked at her, an amused expression on his face. "Concede." He drained the last of the cup and threw it into the trashcan. "Ladies first."

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><p><strong>There is much more to this scene but I wanted to give you this before all of the questions came. Hope you enjoyed this. Please, please, PLEASE review. I love how many people are keeping up with story but I really need feedback to help me write. Inspiration=updates :)<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Mentalist does not belong to me**

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><p>She watched him for a moment and weighed the question. "First things first: are you ever coming back?"<p>

"Well, since we're being honest, I don't know. I'm sure it's no surprise to you that I didn't exactly have plans post-Red John. So, I'm undecided."

"Fair enough."

"Now my question. Am I really off my game or are you much better at this than you used to be?" Her reaction exemplified his question. She only seemed a little caught off-guard by his question (and not at all to the untrained eye) yet she took her time in formulating an answer.

She had a playful glint in her eye for a few seconds, tempted to convince him he was off his game. Then, the graveness of the situation overtook her. If she wanted a semblance of honesty from him, then she would have to be honest herself. She sighed again; she seemed to be doing that a lot today and it wasn't exactly easy with the stitches pulling at the skin of her abdomen. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were slightly off your game, Patrick, given everything that's happened. But, no, I don't think you are _that_ far off. It seems as if I've gotten better at our cat and mouse game, as you called it."

He studied her face intently. "But you didn't want to."

She narrowed her eyes. "You're not playing by the rules, Patrick Jane."

"Meh," he waved it off. "Since when do I play by the rules?" But a quick look told him he had never seen that particular fire in her eyes and suddenly there was nothing attractive about getting Teresa Lisbon riled up. Had that pure rage always been there, bottled up? Or had his nemesis truly violated her mind?

"You _will_ play by these rules if you want to know _anything _that's happened recently." She kept her eyes narrowed at him, daring him to push her further. He held up his hands in a surrendering motion, making a mental note to tread lightly. The fire died but he had a feeling it was merely laying dormant.

"I believe it's my question next." She continued at his nod. "Why aren't you rounding up the followers?"

He sighed. He had expected this question, but it didn't make it any easier to answer. "I wasn't aware that Cho was 'rounding up' his followers as you so eloquently put it." He looked at her and chuckled a bit as she fought to not stick her tongue out at him.

"Cho didn't text you?"

"Now who's breaking the rules?" He smirked. She crossed her arms and he could see the pout she was barely hiding. "How are you feeling?"

Her brow furrowed and her nose scrunched in that adorable way. "That's your question?" She let her arms fall and she tilted her head as she stared at him like he had grown a third eye.

"Humor me, Teresa. I'm concerned." He smiled softly, his gaze intense.

"It hurts a little sometimes and the stitches feel like they're pulling occasionally. Doctor says I have to be more careful."

"The doctor's right. You need to take it easy."

"Because you get along so well with doctors."

"Eh," he shrugged. "Do as I say, not as I do?" He raised an eyebrow at her. She responded with one of her own and he laughed. "It was worth a shot." He felt a little at ease, despite the seriousness of their little game.

"Did Cho tell you that they were going after Red John's followers?"

_Back to serious, again_, he thought. "I couldn't answer that 'til I turned my phone back on." Her face hardened and her eyes darkened. He reached an arm out to her though he was more than a few feet away from her. "Hey, you said you wanted honesty," he soothed softly.

"I know," she said, looking down and an edge to her voice. She cleared her throat. "I know," she said more softly. She blinked a couple of times.

"What did Cho find out?" He knew his questions were a bit on the easy side but he didn't want to push her to far too fast. It wasn't everyday that Teresa Lisbon willingly let you into her web of secrets.

"I don't know. You should ask him." He looked at her pointedly. She rolled her eyes. "I'm a victim, remember? I can't know what's going on with the case any longer until it's all wrapped up. You can. All I know is Bertram is apparently hiding and personnel are on the lookout for him. Any other followers you'd have to talk to the team about." He sadly shook his head and looked like his shoes were the most interesting thing in the world. "What?" she asked.

"You're not a victim."

She sighed. "For legal and professional purposes, I am and I'm not about to do something that will compromise their court case. Those people will get the fair trial and prison sentence they deserve."

He looked up at the ceiling. "I admire you, my dear. No matter how many times you've been assaulted by criminals, you still believe in putting their fate in the judicial system over the universal laws of justice."

"I've helped the judicial system put away people who operate by your universal laws of justice." They stared at one another for a while. "Why haven't you come to see me?"

"Well, the first time I saw you after surgery you kicked me out – "

"Because you listen so well."

He looked at her bewildered. "Are you sure you didn't talk to Cho?" She smirked but shook her head. "Anyway, the first time you kicked me out and the second time didn't go so well either." He sighed and talked slowly, choosing his words carefully. "I thought it would be best for our friendship if I stopped there. Not to mention I had no idea you'd be able to interrupt my hypnosis. I hit somewhat a dead end with you, to put it bluntly, and knowing what happened between you and Red John was my last shot at closure. I needed to think of another way to find out that would be worth the damage it caused." He watched her as he let it sink in. "Okay, next question: why are you wearing those ridiculous boots?"

Her brow furrowed and she frowned as she looked down at her legs that had been swinging. "What?"

"Those boots, my dear Lisbon, are the boots you always wear to work after time off for some injury. You wear them there to give you a few extra inches of height so that you look a smidge more intimidating than usual; therefore bringing you back to status quo if you've been injured. Nonsense, of course, since you've made it perfectly clear over the years that whoever messes with you either gets their ass handed to them or shot. But, it's work and your professionalism is important to you just like showing no weakness is important to you; so, continue to uphold the tradition at work if you must. But you obviously didn't plan on going to work today or you wouldn't have flown to Malibu. So, I ask again: why did you wear those ridiculous boots here?"

He inwardly smiled a little that she looked self-conscious. At least there was some normalcy at play here. She's still herself in some ways. The damage done had not been completely irreparable. "Same reason I guess," she mumbled, looking at the floor.

He nodded; he'd give her that. She still didn't trust him completely, if she trusted him at all. _No_, he thought, _she trusted me enough to be honest with her today. Otherwise we wouldn't be playing this game_. So, she trusted him some. But she refused to show weakness in front of him; no worries, she refused to show weakness in front of everyone, including herself. "Next question."

"Why didn't you just ask me what happened?" She looked him in the eye, as if that would stop him from lying to her.

"It occurred to me, if that's part of your question. It wasn't a viable option. You don't open up, not that I do," he added quickly, holding up a hand to stop her protest before the words came out. She closed her mouth and kept quiet. "You wouldn't have told me." He shrugged as if it was most obvious thing in the world.

She shook her head. "Always the skeptic. Questions. You're up, cowboy." He grinned wickedly. She blushed and looked away. "Get your mind out of the gutter." _Okay_, she thought, _maybe __one__ fantasy of him in chaps and a hat and boots_.

His face went serious and his fixed her with an intent gaze. "What did Red John do to your head?" She just stared at him. "You said total honesty."

"It's difficult to explain." He nodded and waited patiently. "He created a maze of sorts. Only of that night; things about him. He unlocked some things and locked others."

"The maze he created – "

"– was solely for you and uncomplicated. He meant for you to find me…" She took a deep breath. "He meant for you to find me just alive so that you could ask me about it and get that much closer to finding out something before I died, dragging out your torment and making the next move in the sick game he's been playing with you. Fortunately for both of us, it didn't get to that point and he didn't get the chance to make it too complicated before I killed him."

"He didn't finish it…"

She sensed his confusion. "Red John likes to start with a sensible maze and make it increasingly difficult. Apparently, Frye was too much fun for him and it got a bit more out of hand than he planned. Bastard couldn't help himself." He nodded gravely. "Do you hate me for it?"

He snapped his head up at her but she wouldn't meet his gaze. He saw the same Lisbon who had hid behind a couch from a dying man, the same Lisbon who had asked him not to tell the team about her failure to remember under hypnosis when she was accused of murdering McTeer. He crossed the kitchen and stood in front of her on the kitchen counter. He stepped forward between her legs, placed his hands on her hips and scooted her forward. He couldn't help but be a little surprised that she let him. He looked up at her. "No." She nodded and let out a breath neither realized she was holding. "Would you like me to help you with this maze?" He watched as she seemed to consider his offer.

"No." He let a little disappointment slip onto his face. "Maybe at some point, but for now I can get through the maze every time I tell it. I don't like the things he unlocked but I can control them. I'm still searching for the things he locked but it isn't really important at the moment."

He understood. She was still feeling a little vulnerable. He trusted that one day, probably not too far from now, she'd want his help. He realized he was still in their intimate position and backed off to give her the space she needed to continue their give and take. "If you weren't with me and you weren't with the team, what have you been doing?"

He really did not want to do this now. He thought he had more time. But, he also knew from the first chime of the doorbell that was all going to come down to this question. "Thinking."

"Thinking?"

"And trying to prepare myself."

"For?" He walked to the living room. She hopped off the counter and followed him. He pulled out two cans of white paint out of a plastic bag and held them up to show her. "Redecorating?"

He frowned and put them down. "Yes…but – "

"But that's not it and you want to be honest with me. You're nervous about it."

He tilted his head to the side. "It seems as if our roles have been reversed." He sighed. "I didn't want to show you this. Maybe someday but…It doesn't matter. No time like the present time." He reached out and took her hand. "Come on."

He led her up the familiar stairway and paused outside the door. He took a deep breath and opened it, letting her see what was inside. She gasped at seeing the gruesome smiley on the wall. Tears blurred her vision after seeing the small mattress that lay on the floor beneath it.

He rubbed a hand down her back and closed the door. They descended the stairs without a word. "Would you like to stay for lunch?"

"Is that your question?" She whispered, staring into space.

He walked over and put his hand on her shoulder. "Yes, and I'm going to explain everything."

"Okay, I'll stay. But I don't need an explanation."

"I know you think you don't deserve an explanation; but you do, Teresa." She nodded walked away. He gave her space and called for pizza.

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><p><strong>More questions and explanations to come. Reviews help :) Thanks for all of your support so far. You all are great!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I, ShellGrad (and any other name I may go by in the real world), do not own the Mentalist or its characters.**

**Sorry for the delay, had a research paper to write. Anyway, hope this lives up to some of your expectations. I had a couple of requests to hear what Red John did to Lisbon's head and I honestly hadn't planned on telling it so I made a compromise and kind of forced through the writer's block of that section. Leave love, ideas, and critiques in the reviews. **

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><p>Half an hour later they were sitting on the kitchen counters, facing each other and eating a slice of pepperoni. Jane kept glancing up to gauge Lisbon's reaction. She hadn't spoken since he went to call the pizza place.<p>

"I never had a chance, did I?"

If she hadn't been playing with the napkin on her lap, he wouldn't have been sure she had said anything. "That's a question that I don't really have an answer to. I think you had more of a chance than you think you did. I hadn't given up on avenging my family's deaths but you've made me think more and more about that decision over the years. And murdering Timothy Carter was not as easy as it should have been if he had been Red John. So in short, you had some chance, Lisbon." She nodded in acceptance to his answer. "Will you tell me what happened?"

She nodded once again. "After we eat. I need to be able to concentrate to do it." He nodded and they ate the rest of their lunch in silence.

Jane cleared away the pizza as Lisbon readied herself. "Okay," she said, her eyes closed.

"Okay?"

"Okay, here it goes…"

She walked through the door and dropped her stuff on the floor like she always did. She felt exhausted, as usual. They had just finished a particularly difficult case. Jane was having a hard time getting a read on people. She always knew cases that came up around this time of year were going to be a pain in the ass. He couldn't focus. And even though she felt a little guilty about it, she became frustrated with him every year. She knew it was because the anniversary of his family's death was approaching but she willed him to just get over it already! The drunk driver that killed her mother walked away just as Red John had never been caught. But she didn't let it affect her every year. There was a job to be done, and she'd do it. There was a life to be lived. Sure, she may not go out a lot but she did have a life, even if that life was dedicated to the job.

She dropped her keys in a bowl by the door and shrugged out of her jacket as she made her way to the couch. She threw the jacket to the side and plopped down. She reached for the table lamp when a rough hand grabbed her wrist. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." She stifled a gasp and reached for her gun on her hip. It wasn't there. Then she remembered it was in her jacket. She had had to put it in her jacket pocket as she pretended to be a civilian during one of Jane's schemes to flush out the killer.

She started to talk to the man to distract him as she discretely reached for the gun in her jacket. She couldn't hear what she was saying to him. The two voices were muffled her hand closed around the cool metal of the handle. She switched off the safety…

"No! That's wrong." She shook her head as Jane put his hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay. You can try again."

"I will. Just give me a minute."

"Take your time." They sat in silence for a few minutes. "Lisbon? What happens if you keep going down the wrong path instead of turning back?"

"I die," she whispered.

"Well, let's try not to let that happen."

"It doesn't happen often anymore. I just always make that first wrong turn."

"It's only natural. Your cop instincts would want you to grab the gun as soon as possible and gain some control of the situation. So, what really happened?"

Lisbon closed her eyes. "I went for my gun, but it was in my jacket. I…I froze." She looked so ashamed of herself; he put a hand on her shoulder. "I know that I couldn't do anything but somehow…I still feel like I should have." She took a deep breath and he thought he heard her mutter 'left'. "Okay, he started saying…something…I've never figured that part out."

"He hypnotized you."

"Yeah, but I'm not sure what he said."

"Not important. That's not the trigger. It was just what he did to put you into the trance. Now, what happened after that?"

She pushed hard off the counter and walked across the kitchen. "Look, bottom line is he unlocked some shit that should have been kept under lock and key and – "

"Teresa!"

"Fine," she said through clenched teeth. "I don't want to go into the details but let's just say the crime scene photos from your house…they don't exactly explain…everything." **(AN: Translation: I'd rather not describe how Red John killed Jane's family. I'm really into imagery and I don't need that in my head when I sleep at night.)** He hid his horror and waited for her to continue. "He told me he had plans for you…not really specific, just that he planned to continue to torture you before some big finale he had yet to plan. He said some other things," she sighed and played with her boots. "about you…"

"He was right, Teresa. You can't fix me. I'm broken."

"And I'm a sucker for hopeless cases and lost souls. He was right about that. But he's wrong about you not being able to find another life. You deserve to be happy, Patrick Jane, and don't you let anyone tell you differently."

He smiled, "You give that same pep talk to Tommy when he was little?"

"Maybe," she smirked. "So, what did you and Cho fight about?"

"He accused me of choosing Red John over you." He caught her pointed look. "Okay, it isn't entirely true. And trust me when I say it was not a simple one to make. Not that every choice has to be so polar. I'd like to think I chose a happy medium."

"True, but that wouldn't be enough to strike an argument between the two members of the team that are most capable of hiding their emotions."

"He accused me of always choosing the dead over the living."

There were silent for a long time. Jane was just about to ask his next question when Lisbon finally spoke. "I think you're right. Choices don't have to always be quite so polar. There's no reason you can't keep the dead in your heart and your memories while making room for the living."

"It's so much more than making room, Teresa." She blushed at the warmth in his eyes and his soft smile. "Why aren't you at work?"

"I was just discharged yesterday. I'm not allowed to go back to work until next week and even then I'm chained to my desk. Why me?"

"You can't honestly tell me you haven't figured that out."

"He told me but whatever he says doesn't exactly hold much weight in the truth or trust department."

He weighed how much of the truth to tell her before deciding she had shown total honesty with the scene that played out between her and Red John. "They found photos he had taken or had someone else take of us out in the field. I didn't think I needed to hide my expressions when no one on the team was watching. So, he caught the moments my mask slipped and apparently the team had caught on occasionally too. He found out you have a place in my heart, Teresa."

Her face showed a combination of shock and something else he couldn't quite place but he thought her heart might have squeezed just as painfully as his had at his admission (or near admission depending on how picky his little woman wanted to be). "Do you want to call a Thai place and head to your hotel to finish delving into each others' secrets in a more comfortable setting?" At her confused expression, he explained.

"I've seen your place and I'm willing to bet that mark is still on your carpet and you didn't sleep at all last night in your apartment. So, you flew to Malibu because you had planned to talk to me anyway and you needed a place to stay while yours still looks like that. Not to mention that you probably don't feel very safe in that apartment anymore knowing that someone was able to get in."

"Sure, that sounds good." She smiled. He hopped off the kitchen counter and helped her down before following her to her rental car.

About half an hour later, they were both sitting on the hotel bed with various cartons surrounding them. They had an unspoken agreement to stay silent throughout the meal, taking a break from their game. Jane watched Lisbon as she stared at the last fried spring roll, obviously trying to debate whether she could afford to eat it since she hadn't been active for a while and wouldn't be cleared to be active for a while. He shook his head a little and rolled his eyes before pushing the container towards her. They both knew she wanted it; he was just the one that wasn't going to let her think about it any longer. She eventually took it. _Probably decided it's safe since she thinks there's no dessert_, he thought while laughing a little evilly in his head. Little did she know, Jane had ordered banana rolls and coconut ice cream for dessert. As she started cleaning up, he put his hand on her shoulder and lightly pushed her down. She silently sat and waited as he brought the dessert container out of its hiding place. She titled her head a little and her amused smile came out, along with her dimple. He held it out to her and looked at her pointedly until she gave in and took a bite. He smiled and went for his own bite.

"Lisbon?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you have nightmares?"

She looked at him for a moment, a slight defeated look to her features. _Back to the game_, she thought. "Yes, sometimes. But I've had nightmares before Red John and before Red John attacked me." She practically heard his '_There's a difference?_' from the look on his face. "Yes, there's a difference. At this point, there's no use denying that I've had nightmares about the day you would face Red John."

He waited until he decided she wasn't sharing more than that. _Probably for the best_, he decided. "Do you?" She interrupted his thoughts.

He sighed and nodded. "Not just about my family, which is what you probably think."

"Oh."

He laughed a little to himself. So articulate, his woman. But he had to admit, that wasn't exactly something that was easy to respond to with words. "Have you tried to fix me, Lisbon?"

She smiled widely at that. Busted! "That implies that I stopped." _Little minx_, he thought as he smiled back. Her smile faded as she got back down to business. "Is what Red John said true? Do you love me?"

"I believe that's two questions, my dear."

"It was a clarifying question." She rolled her eyes. "I certainly wasn't talking about the part where he was tormenting you."

His face got serious again; it had been doing that a lot today. "Yes, though I never thought he would ever find out. I never thought anyone would find out. And it certainly wasn't how I ever dreamed you'd find out."

"Not exactly romantic," she agreed.

"Do you love me?"

"What?"

He couldn't help but love that panicked look on her face. "Well, you asked me so it only seems fair that I get to ask you as well."

"Yeah, but that was – "

"Honesty, Lisbon." He sang.

She huffed and crossed her arms and legs. "Fine, yes, I do love you. There, I said it!" Part of him _really_ wanted to kiss that sexy pout off of her lips. But that rational part knew she was cooking up a doozy of a question in her head right now. She turned to look at him, challenge written all over her face. She wasn't ready to admit her love for him and now she was about to ask a question that could probably determine the course of their relationship. "Were you just using us to get closer to Red John?"

He took a deep breath. _Yeah, expected that_, he thought. He chose his words carefully. "At first, yes. After a while, no. It became much more than getting closer to finding Red John. If you don't believe me, I understand. But trust me when I tell you I shot Hardy on instinct. I didn't even realize what happened until it was over. All I realized then was that I couldn't lose you. I couldn't let that scum of a man take you." She smiled at him softly and their eyes met. He took a breath and stood up from the bed. "Well, you should get some sleep."

"Okay. I'll come over tomorrow." They had yet another staring match/battle of wills.

"Alright. Goodnight Lisbon."

"Goodnight Jane." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her forehead before leaving. Who knew what was in for them tomorrow...


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**AN: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and put me on story alert. Sorry it has been a while. I hope this chapter ties up a few loose ends I felt I didn't get a chance to cover enough because I felt others were more important at the time. I now have a general idea of where the story will end up so I promise I'm not rambling in these chapters. There is a plan!**

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><p>He heard the doorbell chime and opened his eyes. He looked at the time on his cell phone, seven on the dot. That woman needed to learn how to sleep in; though he was sure she probably got as much sleep as he had. He sighed and slowly got off the bed. <em>I'm getting too old for this<em>, he thought when he heard his knees crack.

He made his way down the stairs to the front door, the bedroom door closed even though she'd already seen his horrible secrets behind it. He opened the door and silently accepted the cup of tea she held out to him, stepping aside to let her in. But she didn't move. "What do you have planned for us today, my dear?" he asked before taking a sip from his cup.

"You are getting out of this house. We're spending some time outside today. There's a park down the street."

"I have a private beach that might be more appropriate should you feel the need to ask any more questions." At her bewildered look, he conceded. "Okay, so I have questions."

She smiled and rolled her eyes as she walked past him and toward the door that led to his patio. After closing the front door, he joined her and sat on the deck. He stole a glance; she was staring out at the ocean, seemingly in her own world. She looked almost peaceful. He silently chuckled to himself. Of course she would look peaceful, despite the house she just walked through. She had just as many – if not more – demons in her past as he did and she didn't carry them around with her every day. He sighed and looked down at his hands where he was playing with his ring. He would take it off soon; not yet, but soon. Every day it felt a smidge lighter; and considerably lighter after his conversation yesterday with Lisbon.

"I _do_ love you, Lisbon – " He began, playing with his ring, but was cut off.

"– but you're not ready to do anything about it. I get it." He looked up to find that she hadn't once torn her gaze from the sunset. There was still a slight hardness to her eyes that hadn't been there a slight rigidity to her jaw. He really hoped he'd be able to undo what Red John had done. He'd just have to find the right trigger. Maybe she would be open to it someday. She didn't deserve to live like this, though it was admittedly better the catatonic state Kristina Frye remained in.

"Lisbon, the maze you mentioned. You said it only contained things about that night and about him. What exactly was it about him that he had hiding in the maze?"

"Typical things," she sighed, "his real name – "

"– which the team found out – "

"– his description – "

"– which was obviously easy to find out, given he was lying on the floor of your living room – "

"– and some things that I couldn't tell you."

He studied her. "Couldn't…Meaning you couldn't tell me even if you wanted to?" She nodded. "Like what?" She opened her mouth and stammered, only choking out a series of unintelligible syllables. "Okay, okay," he placed a hand on her shoulder and she calmed immediately after taking a deep breath. "So, that's part of what he locked up?" She nodded. _Seems like old RJ didn't think about taking away that particular ability_, he thought gratefully.

"Okay," he rubbed his hands together like he was getting ready to dig into a really fun puzzle. "Let's figure out what exactly he locked up." She rolled her eyes but nodded.

"His followers?" She nodded.

"Have you told Cho their names?" She opened her mouth and tried to talk, managing a few unintelligible syllables before he closed her mouth.

"Okay, so you can't say their names…" He stood up quickly, causing her to jump. "Can you recognize their names?" He turned to look at her with a mischievously bright smile on his face. She was in quiet thought for a moment before she looked up at him expectantly.

"Okay, let's try this: Gale Bertram." He studied her face intently, trying to catch the thoughts flitting across her face. She looked up at him with bright eyes and a smile almost as bright as his.

"You see his face?" She nodded.

"So if we can play the right guessing game, you can identify – no, not identify, _clarify_ all of his followers. Just one question, does Cho know about this maze?" She cast her gaze downwards.

He sighed and plopped down onto the deck beside her again. "You have really got to get over these trust issues. How did you get through giving your statement without him finding out?"

"I had spent quite a lot of time by myself before he came to take the statement. It took a while, but I finally figured out the right path and found a way to memorize it." She shrugged at his impressed look. "It wasn't that hard. That's part of why I kicked you out. I've already had him in my head. I was trying to sort out my head. I knew you were going to try to get in my head. Three people are too many in my head at once. There isn't room for a party. I needed figure out what happened first. So, yes, I kicked you out after surgery. But I'm not really sorry for it. It gave me the time I needed."

He nodded. "When you go back to work, we can let Cho in on our little plan."

"We?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

He chuckled softly. "Yes, we. They'll need your knowledge and my expertise if they're planning on getting anywhere with this case."

"Be that as it may, Jane, I already explained to you that I can't work this case."

"That's where you're wrong, Teresa. You are part of the case even if you aren't _in charge_ of the case. _You_ are someone with information on the case. And I, of course, am the only one capable of guessing the right things."

Lisbon rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Modest, aren't we?"

"You know it's true. I'd do it here if I could. However, I don't have the suspect list or the new additions to the case file. I _could_ go behind dear old Cho's back and get it or get you to make copies after hours but judging from the glare you're sending in my direction, I take it that's a lost cause. Besides, you and I both respect Cho too much to do that."

"Ha! So you respect Cho too much to go behind his back but you don't respect _me_ enough to _not_ go behind _my_ back?" She folded her arms across her chest.

He rolled his eyes and tugged her arms apart, grabbing her hand and intertwining their fingers. "Don't be ridiculous, Teresa. I wouldn't go behind your back to get something as important as a list of possible Red John followers."

"So what was LaRoche's suspect list?"

"Ah! That's different. I didn't go behind your back for that. I didn't! I went behind LaRoche's back."

"Oh, yeah, that makes it all better."

"Sarcasm, my dear – "

"– is the lowest form of wit, yeah, yeah, I know." She finished, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, you've got to stop doing that."

"Oh yes, I almost forgot. The great Patrick Jane doesn't like sharing the spotlight," she teased, playfully shoving him.

He nudged her with his shoulder and they both chuckled quietly. "So," he said while rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, "I have another question."

"Shoot."

"Yesterday…Lisbon, I've seen you angry before, many times before given our history but I've never seen that pure rage look in your eyes before. Where the hell did that come from? Has that always been there?"

She wanted to be annoyed but found it difficult when he looked at her tenderly. She sighed and bitterly shook her head. "I…I haven't allowed myself to get that angry since my father's funeral…"

"So, you locked it away?" She nodded. "Well, Lisbon, I always did say you were translucent…certainly not transparent." He muttered the last part but she caught it and smirked to herself. "I take it that's one of the things Red John unlocked."

"That and my parents' deaths."

"How did he – "

"Remember when we were looking for his CBI mole?" He nodded. "Well, turns out we're not the only law enforcement agency – or government agency, for that matter – that he has a mole in. He got his hands on files through one of them, I suppose. All he really said was some egotistical crap about having close friends in high places…and low, I reminded him."

Jane chuckled. Leave it to Lisbon to taunt a serial killer who had her right where he wanted her. "More imagery, I imagine." She nodded and he clenched his jaw until it felt excruciating. "You shouldn't have had to go through that, Lisbon."

"Don't tell me what should and shouldn't happen, Patrick Jane," she growled. "I'm well aware my life story isn't all sunshine and rainbows but I made it through and I won't accept _anyone's_ pity. Do I make myself clear?"

Her gaze was menacing once again and he swore to find out her trigger before this was all over and she became too used to this slightly different persona. He simply nodded then added in a quiet voice, "Crystal…but I was talking about Red John bringing it all back for you. He didn't need to do that to you. He was using you to hurt me and this is the first time…"

"The first time, what, Jane?"

He took a deep breath then looked at her, head tilted slightly. "Did you know that killer whales will toss a sea lion, or whatever other animal they happen to be eating, back and forth through the air from one member of the pod to the other?"

"What the hell – " Her faced, which had scrunched up in confusion at his seemingly intention to change the subject, now set back to its' now pre-set rigidity. "I'm the sea lion," she quietly stated matter-of-factly.

"Well," he said in a light tone, "maybe not a sea lion, per say. They're not the most beautiful creatures. Besides, my dear, I trust you know my fondness for you most likely would not have grown into what it is today if you had the whiskers of a sea lion. Not to mention the funny feet, or lack thereof, I should say. You're much too skinny to be a blubber filled seal. Your eyes are much too big and expressive to be the beady eyed little penguin. Don't even get me started on how different you are from the walrus." She pinched the bridge of her nose as he continued babbling. "I suppose you could be a fish but that doesn't describe your personality at all, does it? No, which just further confuses the matter because then you'd have no choice but to be a shark."

"A shark? How am I shark? Do whales even eat sharks?"

"Occasionally, yes. But, it's not their usual prey just like you're not his usual type." He purposely left the word victim out but they both knew it hung in the balance. He refused to refer to her as such, even if she acknowledged it somewhat. "The shark is deadly and the whale has to know it will put up a fight. So, it would be less smart than usual to play with this particular prey. Sometimes their prey can escape their games. Red John is not usually the killer whale. So, why be the killer whale with you when you are the shark that he shouldn't mess with, much less play games with?"

"Wait a second; he played the killer whale with Kristina."

"Yes, but she was not a shark. He knew he could get away with it. He was particularly angry with her because of her attack on him and because he knew I would take it hard and that it would keep me suffering in silence, not moving on with life and into a relationship."

"So, you think he underestimated me? Bit off more than he could chew?"

"Okay, we have got to stop with the cannibalistic phrases. It's really not appetizing. But, yes, that is my theory but I can't know for sure until…How did you shoot him?"

She sighed. "He had just finished the maze and was about to go back to the beginning and 'make a few changes to his masterpiece' when he heard something outside my apartment. I'm not sure what it was but it obviously made him think he didn't have enough time to finish what he started. So as he was slicing across my abdomen, I turned, making it worse, unfortunately. I ran back to the couch and grabbed my gun and shot. I knew he was down, but…I didn't want him in my head any longer. I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to hear him.

"I just texted Cho. I told him there was a new Red John crime scene and gave him the address. I knew I had to tell you. I couldn't let you find out from someone else. I knew you'd never forgive me if you had. It was a shot in the dark that you'd forgive me at all for killing him. I knew someone should talk to him before he died, get the information out of him before it was all gone.

"I knew you'd want to talk to him. After all, you talked to Timothy Carter for a while before you shot him. But I couldn't send you the text message. You knew where I lived…Knowing you, you probably put that address somewhere in your memory palace so I had to make the call. One of the last things I wanted to do at that moment was hear your voice and know that you'd hear something in mine…but I had no choice."

He nodded. It all made sense now. That was why he got there before Cho. She knew all she needed to say was that she needed him and he'd be there in a heartbeat. Cho just thought it was a normal crime scene. He'd had no idea.

"You didn't see him that night…why?"

He looked at her to see the same tear tracks he'd seen that night. He brushed them away with his thumb. "You didn't see the state you were in. I didn't know it was him when you called, Teresa. All I knew was that you were upset and you needed some comfort. I only had eyes for you…as corny as that sounds, believe me it was with every intention of comforting you. I had no intention of acting on romantic feelings until we were safe from Red John and even then I assumed I'd always go down with him in one way or another….Lisbon, what is the meaning of Tyger Tyger?"

Her mouth opened and she was once again unable to get out any words. She gave up and frowned. He patted her head gently as she closed her eyes. "Did Cho show you the photos?" he asked. He needed her to know more than she was willing to about the case if he was going to get her insight on what happened. She might be the only one with enough information for him to put the pieces together.

"What photos?"

"Red John, or someone working for him, had been tailing us in the field for quite some time." She just sighed and shook her head. "Did you know about the note?"

She sighed again and he could tell she was getting a little frustrated by his interrogation, no matter how much she understood his need for it. "Red John mentioned a message he had to leave for you but it wasn't all that clear whether he meant it metaphorically or literally. Now I guess it means he meant both…leave it to him to be confusing."

He couldn't help but smile a little at her assessment. No matter how intelligent the woman was, she didn't always think completely outside of the box. _Probably part of being a cop_, he assumed. They do tend to see a lot of the same patterns in human behavior. That was one of the things that made the Red John case difficult. The man was extremely intelligent and clever to boot. Neither he nor the serial killer saw things in black and white.

He looked out toward the ocean and noticed a ribbon dancing along the wind. _Probably belonging to a little girl_, he thought, _it was a rather windy day_. Lisbon must have thought the same thing as she reached out to grab it as it blew past their faces, probably with the kind-hearted intention of returning it.

He reached out as well but not for the ribbon. He grabbed wrist and brought it to his lips, placing a whisper of a kiss on her pulse point. He immediately felt it do double time and turned to see her staring at him with wide eyes, spilling over with tears. The harsh edges were gone and his sweet but tough agent in charge was staring back at him at last.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this elated. The elation quickly turned to rage as he realized that such a lowlife had been so intimate with his Teresa. That man didn't deserve her. Hell, _he_ didn't deserve her but he damn sure deserved her more than that scumbag! He quickly stood up and brought her up with him. "We've gotta go. We've gotta go to Cho and tell him everything you know now and get everyone he ever knew off the streets of California." He paused and noticed how vulnerable she still looked and pulled her in for a loving embrace. He didn't dare look for a way to tell time. Yes, they had to move fast but there was something more important here. Lisbon needed comforting and he would not let Red John cause her pain any longer if he could put a stop to it. So, he would stand there and hold her for as long as it would take until they could move forward with the plan and, eventually, with their lives. But there was a lot to accomplish before that.

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><p><strong>Now is the time to let me know what you think, my lovely reviewers. And remember, when I'm not writing (and working on grad school stuff) I am reading other fanfictions just like you should too! There are some pretty fantastic ones out there. Almost all of them have great story lines.<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist or the adorably delicious Patrick Jane.**

**Re-posted to add in the breaks that were taken out in the uploading process.**

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><p>"Cho!"<p>

The agent in question turned to see Patrick Jane barreling out of the elevator towards the bullpen. Teresa Lisbon strode in purposefully behind him. "Boss?" His tone was the only thing betraying his confusion.

Van Pelt and Rigsby both turned to see Lisbon standing at the entrance of the bullpen looking stronger than ever despite the dark circles under her eyes and their naughty consultant, who'd been nowhere to be found recently, practically dancing circles around their boss, he was so excited. If the smile on his face was any indication, they either just got a big break in the case or they were about to lose their jobs. The man was a lawsuit waiting to happen. Bosco had been right in his assessment but the team all knew and accepted that he closed cases…and he had a special place in all of their hearts.

Jane was practically beaming. Lisbon looked at him indulgently and gently pushed him forward like an excited but ambivalent three-year-old. "I have a plan!" The three agents groaned and Lisbon just smiled.

"Boss?" Cho cleared his throat. "I thought you weren't supposed to come in until next week?"

"Oh, Cho," Jane waved it off like he did with all rules and regulations, "you know you're just as happy to see our fearless leader as I am."

"Not _that_ happy," Cho snorted. Lisbon raised an eyebrow at her second in command. "Not that I don't enjoy seeing you, Boss. But, for one, you should be resting. Two: no one's ever as happy as Jane to see you."

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><p>"No," Cho deadpanned. They were all seated around the meeting table in bullpen.<p>

"What? I mean, that's just crazy," Rigsby inputted.

"Well, guys, maybe it's not such a bad idea," Grace reasoned.

"Look," Lisbon reasoned, "Cho, I understand that this is your case and it's your call. Jane's plans do have a tendency to sometimes blow up in people's faces."

"It'll never be usable in court."

"But, his plans also catch a lot of bad guys. You can call it an anonymous tip if you want. This is ultimately your call."

"Boss, the courts will ask about the informant. I can't drag you into court. The minute they find out this is coming from you they'll ask why you didn't tell us earlier. The minute you tell them you were hypnotized by Red John…we won't have anything."

"Ah, yes, well I thought we would hit this particular road block. I mean, let's face it, all the courts need is proof of a connection to Red John. They don't necessarily need to know how we got there."

"So, if we can find the proof…" Cho started.

"– you don't lose the case. No matter where the information came from," Lisbon finished.

Cho looked from Lisbon to Jane and back again. Jane beamed the moment he saw the surrender.

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><p>An hour later, Jane and Lisbon were sitting on the couch in Lisbon's office. The team was busy pulling up pictures of the suspects Lisbon had listed. Meanwhile, Jane was showing her pictures of the suspects the team already had while watching her face to gage her reactions.<p>

He handed her what seemed like the twentieth picture. "Yes," she sighed, already bored with the system her right hand man and consultant had come up with. She curled her legs underneath her and leaned back against the pillows.

Jane put down the new photo he had grabbed and reached over to rub Lisbon's neck. "Hey, I know it's a long process but this is what it takes to get the bad guys. You know that." He watched her pinch the bridge of her nose and mumble something incoherent. "Tell you what," he said as he stood up, "I'll get you a cup of coffee and some tea for me and then we'll get started again. Go ahead, lie down and relax. We both know you will." He smirked as he left her office and headed to the break room. Lisbon couldn't help smiling back as she stretched out on the couch and closed her eyes.

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><p>Jane came back with coffee and tea in hand ten minutes later. Lisbon sat up when she heard him softly close the door. "Hey," she said sleepily. She glanced at the clock. "What took you so long?"<p>

"Had to sidestep Wainwright. It wouldn't do to let him know you were back early or that I have reappeared, assuming he even knew that I had disappeared in the first place. And it certainly wouldn't do to let him know that you were the one putting the suspect list together for the Red John followers. Actually, it wouldn't do to let _anyone_ know that. Never know just how many moles the bastard has and it certainly won't be very safe for you until we find every single one of them." Jane frowned at the last thought.

Lisbon sighed and rolled her eyes. "I'll be fine, Jane. I'm a big girl."

He gave her a look that clearly said '_Cop or not, they could kill you_.'

She gave him a look right back saying '_Yeah, and I killed __**him**_.'

He shook his head slightly and sat down beside her, handing her the coffee as he sipped his tea. "I think another hour or two at this and we can get you home."

"I don't want to go home." She purposely didn't look up at him as she took a sip of coffee and turned her attention to the photographs.

"We'll go to my motel then. Either way, my dear Lisbon, you need to sleep."

"I'm not tired."

"The pain pills make you sleepy."

"Jane…" Her tone dripped with exasperation. She really didn't need to pinch the bridge of her nose to make her point but that certainly didn't stop her from doing it.

He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her closer. He'd ignore her exasperation just like she'd ignore the fact she was perfectly able to incapacitate him if she really wanted to. They'd both ignore those things because they both knew she needed to rest and Patrick Jane was the only one who'd risk life and limb to make sure she got said needed rest.

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><p><strong>So so so so so sorry for the short chapter and not really pleased with this chapter. Criticisms and suggestions fully accepted. Experiencing a bit of a writer's block and finals are coming up. Plus my creative energy seems wrapped up in another story for the Mentalist that I'm working on and will probably post sometime in January. Trying to figure out exactly how far I want their relationship to go before the end of this story, willing to hear any thoughts or suggestions or requests. It's my first one for the Mentalist and I'm not entirely satisfied with the way things have turned out but it's a growing process. Most likely going to post again before next weekend. If not, just know that I'm leaving Dec. 16th to travel home and may not have a lot of access to the internet while away. So, anything not posted over break will come back full force when I return in January. But, again, will most likely post again before leaving.<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Sadly, no, I do not own the Mentalist...**

**As always, thank you to all who reviewed.**

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><p>Monday morning Jane and Lisbon stepped out of the elevator to applause. Most of the CBI was crowded in the hallway and bullpen, smiling and cheering at the agent and consultant crime-fighting duo.<p>

"What is all this?" Lisbon asked. Jane smiled at the slight blush to her cheeks. She never was very good at accepting praise.

"A little welcoming back party for the agent that's responsible for the CBI being able to write 'closed' on so many Red John cases now," her boss smirked as he stepped out from the crowd towards them.

"Thank you, sir, but this really isn't necessary." Lisbon gestured to the crowd of admirers.

"I think you'll find that it is," Jane sang just low enough for her to hear while looking around at everyone but quickly stopped himself from smiling too widely at the elbow that just connected with his ribs.

"Call it a compromise, Agent Lisbon," Wainwright responded.

"Compromise, sir?"

"Unless, of course, you would rather I tell the higher ups that they can go forward with that press conference they were itching to hold," he smirked.

Despite having Jane beside her and not being the least bit attracted to her young superior, Lisbon was sorely tempted to kiss the man standing in front of her. Jane might have had a problem with that though so she settled for a handshake and a very grateful "Thank you, sir."

They pushed through the crowd and finally made it to Lisbon's office. Jane closed the door behind them and plopped down on her couch as Lisbon got settled and gently lowered herself into her chair.

"You know, Lisbon, you're still supposed be taking your pain pills," Jane said with his eyes closed. He smiled widely at the balled-up piece of paper that hit him in the head. "You're going to be sitting at that desk all day catching up on old paperwork. You won't be getting any new paperwork because there are no new cases and the team isn't here because they're out busting Red John's associates. So, you might as well take at least half of the pain pill in your purse since you'll be sitting here all day."

"Teresa?"

Jane frowned before opening his eyes. That was not the retort he was anticipating and that definitely was not her voice. He looked to the door.

"Walter?" Lisbon looked incredulously at the man who had just stuck his head in her office.

"I would have knocked but it's a bit crazy out there. Didn't think you would hear me." He stepped in and closed the door.

"Walter, what are you doing here?"

Jane was comforted by the fact that she seemed completely caught off-guard by it all. She wasn't expecting him. She didn't know he'd find out. She certainly didn't tell him. And since there was no way she could have told him what was going on in her life without mentioning it, Jane was certain they weren't keeping in touch at all. Comforted, yes, but not completely unnerved by it.

"I read about what happened in the paper."

"Oh."

"I'm glad to see you're okay."

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"I believe what Walter is waiting for, my dear Lisbon, is an explanation as to you didn't tell him what was going on before he found out about in the papers." They both turned to see Jane lying nonchalantly on the couch, not looking at all bothered by tension between them. But Lisbon knew better.

"Jane, do you mind?"

"Nope," Jane closed his eyes. "The talking actually makes it easier to nap. So no, I don't mind at all Lisbon." He wiggled to get more comfortable and pretended to doze off.

Lisbon rolled her eyes but Mashburn just laughed lightly. He knew a loyal guard dog when he saw one and though Jane wasn't metaphorically growling yet, it was clear he was staying put to keep an eye on what he clearly thought belonged to him. "It's fine, Teresa."

Lisbon didn't know whether to laugh or scream at the testosterone-driven male egos in the room. She suppressed the urge to explain herself to the both of them, reasoning that Walter had merely been a one-night stand and she and Jane hadn't even kissed yet. "Thanks for stopping by, Walter. Yes, I'm doing just fine. Sorry you had to find out that way. It didn't cross my mind at the time to let you know."

"Don't feel bad, Walter, she still hasn't told her family yet."

He wanted to push at that point but seeing how Jane pointedly ignored the glare she sent in the direction of the man laying on the couch, Walter Mashburn decided Patrick Jane was the only man willing to go there and possibly the only one that could get through to her. So, he decided his time was up. "Well, I think I'll be going. It's good to see you again, Teresa."

"You too, Walter." She watched him close the door behind him before turning her gaze back to Jane.

"What the hell was that? And how do you know I haven't called my brothers?"

"Because there are new messages on your phone that you still haven't listened to because you know that once you do, you'll feel obligated to call them back but you don't want to call them back until everything settled and you were sure that you sounded okay enough that they would believe you and wouldn't come all the way here to check on you."

"It's my business whether or not I tell my family," she said raising her chin ever so slightly.

"Yes, it is."

"Besides, I'm perfectly fine to be at work."

"Except that you can't go out into the field."

"Because of my injuries. And once they heal, I'll be cleared and everything will go back to normal."

"Well, until you pass the psych evaluation."

"Details," she waved a hand dismissively and Jane couldn't help wonder when their roles had been reversed. Ever since that day he'd inadvertently found the trigger, Lisbon had been back to her old self. A little more frayed around the edges, sure, but ultimately back to who she was before Red John had attacked her in her apartment.

"And I know a certain sneaky little consultant who told me he loves me that could surely get me out of a psych evaluation if he really wanted to," she said nonchalantly.

But Jane saw through her act and smirked to himself. Little woman wanted to play dirty, did she? "Oh contraire, my dear."

"Well, if it's too difficult for you…"

"Let's get one thing straight, my dear. It would certainly not be a challenge to get you out of a mandatory psych evaluation. However, since you seem to want to play dirty, I shan't be a part of it."

"You shan't?" Lisbon raised an eyebrow at him.

"That's right; I shan't."

"Meaning you can but you won't."

"Precisely."

"Please, Jane." He smiled again at the slight hint of begging to her voice. "All I'm asking is for you to go down there and just, you know, do what you do best…press a few buttons…get the new doctor to sign off on my form."

"Way ahead of you, my dear. It just so happens I have gone down there and pressed all of those woman's buttons and she won't budge."

"So it's actually a matter of you can't?" she asked incredulously.

"I didn't say that. I'm fairly certain I could hypnotize her. She seems fairly suggestible. However, as I've already told you, you can't make someone do something they wouldn't normally do if not under hypnosis. Besides," he continued, "it'll be good for you and you'll only be setting a worse example for Grace if you don't go. In fact, I'd be willing to bet that if you went and felt better, it might even compel dear Grace to go confess her sins to the dear doctor and smooth some of her edges. She's been walking around like a disgruntled hen with her feathers ruffled ever since that messy business with Craig."

"You like her," she stated, fascinated and somewhat teasing.

"Well, of course I like her, Lisbon. I've been working with her for years and don't get me wrong, it's refreshing to see Grace not so afraid to speak her mind and do what needs to be done, but I'm not so sure it's healthy for her."

"The doctor, you idiot." she rolled her eyes.

"Eh," he shrugged. "She, uh, understands me."

"You've been talking to her?" She was both surprised and taken aback that he hadn't told her.

"Well, just since I went to try and get her to sign off on your papers. She understands about the Carmen thing, by the way."

"And how does that translate into you talking to her? It is mandatory and you hate doctors."

"Yes, well, like I said, she understands me. Don't worry, she understands you too."

"Really?" she asked, sarcasm evident in her voice and on her face.

"Mmhmm."

"And how do you know this, oh wise one?"

"When I was reading her, and then after when I looked her up. Her face is even more expressive than yours, my dear. You can look it all up, if you want to."

"Or you could just tell me while I do this paperwork."

"On one condition, take half a pain pill."

Lisbon rolled her eyes as she did as she was told and washed it down with water. "Now, spill."

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><p>Jane strolled up to the new doctor's office and walked right in. He saw her sitting at her desk and took a moment to observe the small woman who hadn't even acknowledged him much less been at all surprised as others were when he barged in unannounced. She was about half his age and admittedly beautiful though in a very natural way, much like Lisbon. Her hair came just past her shoulders and was a mixture of so many shades of blonde and brunette he wasn't sure he could count them all. It was an enticing mixture of straight, curly, and wavy that also somewhat reminded him of his boss. He noticed the concentrated frown on her face as she read from the computer screen in front of her. He couldn't help but notice the wonderful smells in the room; the unmistakable scent of tea being the most prominent with subtle undertones of strawberry and vanilla. He realized he must have been standing in the doorway for some time and closed the door before stepping into the room.<p>

"Good morning, Patrick Jane," she said as she finally took her eyes from the computer. When she turned her gaze onto him, he couldn't help but notice the battle of blue-green as her eyes shifted from the glaring light of the computer screen to dimmed lighting of her office.

He just registered her words and barely suppressed the surprise that must have registered in his eyes. "Yes, I have heard all about you. After all, who hasn't?"

"Right, of course." He put his charming smile in place. It seemed as if the young doctor was affected by his charm like most women as she naturally smiled back. However, unlike most women, she looked more amused than charmed. Because of this, he wasn't entirely certain if the trap was completely set so he decided to engage in a little small talk to lay on enough charm to convince her to just sign off on Lisbon. He found out many things about her in the mean time and they got along well. So well, he almost forgot she was a doctor. He brought out the papers and tried to plant the idea that she wanted to sign them.

He was both surprised and a little taken aback when she smiled at him with a twinkle in her eye and simply said "Nope" and sat back down in her chair, a slightly smug smile playing on her lips as she turned her attention back to the computer.

"No?" He sat down on the couch, facing her.

"No," she confirmed. He was perplexed looking at the young doctor who was clearly suppressing a few giggles.

"Doctor-"

"Please," she waved a hand through the air as she scrunched up in nose, clearly disliking the title, "call me Michele. Being called 'doctor' makes me feel like a middle-aged, balding, pot-bellied man who hasn't taken a medical course in 20 years."

"Michele, I don't know if you heard – "

"Yes, I heard all about Teresa's incident with Dr. Carmen and I can assure you it's completely against the ethical code, not to mention illegal. I get it; she doesn't want to talk to me. If I were her, I wouldn't want to talk to me either. However, it is policy that she needs to come in before I can just sign off on her. I know you're going to reason that I merely have to sign the papers and that I may not have to technically see her but it would go against my own ethical code to send her out there if I think she could get her or get someone on her team hurt should something as even simple as a flashback occur and blend reality and fantasy together for her. I'm not willing to risk the health of her or her team just to ease her discomfort of seeing another psychologist. I also am not willing to risk losing any sleep on the matter just so you can be in good graces with her."

She studied him for a moment while he sat momentarily shocked into silence and trying to come up with a new plan of action. "Patrick, I do not plan on delving deep into her psyche if that worries you both any. I have no doubt that the traumas I read in her file on her family affect her to this day. However, unless they are exacerbating her current issue with what happened with Red John, they are none of my concern. I completely understand that there are some things better left untouched. I'm always here, of course, should she want to talk about her family issues or should you wish to talk about your family issues, for that matter."

That got his attention. She said it so matter-of-factly, not pitying yet not a slap in the face. "And what about you, Doctor?"

"What about me?" she asked calmly, albeit a bit challengingly.

"Who do you talk to about your family issues? About being lonely? Not that you were always lonely, no…You had a lover…You were engaged…until he left you."

"Close, Patrick. He died, actually."

"Because of you…something you said…"

"Yes." There was that matter-of-fact tone again but gentle with a hint of sadness.

"What happened?" He almost didn't want to know.

She smiled softly and tilted her head to the side just a little. "You don't know, Patrick? I'm surprised you came in here without a weapon. Though I suppose you expected me to fall for your default weapon of charm with women. Well, for the record, you are correct. It was because of me and it was because I said something. He was shot at a stand-off on a college campus. I had had enough of being held hostage and taunted one of the men. They decided to pay me back with a blow to the head to knock me unconscious, but not before they shot him."

He nodded. "Sorry." It was painfully similar to his own story. "You haven't worn the ring in a long time." He pointed to her bare finger that bore no tan line or indentation.

She unconsciously brushed over the spot with her fingers and gave him a sad smile. "He wasn't coming back. It felt wrong to be with anyone else while it was on."

"But you aren't with anyone else," he pointed out.

"True, I am not in a committed relationship now nor have I been since then nor will I probably ever be," she admitted then leaned forward a little with the twinkle back in her eye, "but a girl has needs." She smiled and leaned back in her chair. "It didn't feel right to wear the ring even if it was just a one night stand." He nodded, understanding. She shrugged. "I just never put it back on after that."

"Did it make you feel free?"

She looked at him for a long time before answering. "It made me feel lighter though my heart has always been and will probably always be his."

"High school sweethearts." She gave him a half smile and her eyes flicked to the prom picture on her desk, the one facing _away_ from her client's eyes. He smirked and half-shrugged like a little boy who couldn't care less he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"As well as true love."

He let out a small laugh. "How often does that happen?"

"Not often enough," she admitted.

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><p>"So, she understands you," Lisbon conceded.<p>

"Indeed, but as I said, she understands you, too."

"Again, how?"

"Her mother was just as loving as yours, though admittedly never taken away. Her father certainly didn't win father of the year and didn't have alcohol to blame it on. She had one older brother in comparison to your three younger ones but her brother did not turn out very successful like yours. You both have always been under pressure from others but mostly yourselves to achieve greatness. You both have big caring hearts and you both anticipate my antics."

Lisbon sighed. "Fine, I'll go see her."

"Just like that? I don't have to persuade you?"

"If the woman can get you to willingly open up, she's got to be good so I might as well give it a try. I'd also like to get Grace to talk to her when the time is right."

"Sounds like a plan, my dear." He listened as he let the scratch of her pen and the tapping of the keys on the keyboard lull him to sleep.

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><p><strong>So, what'd you think? I originally was planning to have the psychologist in a one shot but every time I tried to move forward with this story, the scene kept popping into my head. So, taking the advice of a faithful reviewer ;) I decided to run with it and go where the story takes me. And at the moment, it's telling me that maybe we should have a conclusionepilogue chapter after this to finish up this story. I would certainly hate to run it too far and ruin the quality. But, my thoughts could always change if I get the right inspiration. We just might see more of Doctor Michele...who doesn't have a last name. We shall see. Until then, my lovely reviewers, let me know your thoughts and criticisms. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own the Mentalist.**

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><p>A year.<p>

A year since that fateful phone call.

A year since Red John had died. Dead from a gunshot wound from none other than Teresa Lisbon.

Just a year ago he had stood in this very spot looking out the window of the attic of the CBI when she had called him, a call that would end up turning his entire life upside down. His life was no longer about revenge. For a short period of time after that call, it had been about undoing the harm he had caused his best friend through Red John.

Eleven months ago, they had ceased to be just best friends and coworkers.

Eleven months ago, Teresa Lisbon had ordered him into her office the minute he stepped into the building. It was their first non-Red John case since the serial killer had been killed and Lisbon had finally been allowed back in the field. Her wounds had healed; both physical and mental, thanks to the CBI psychologist. She'd also moved into a new apartment. Ten minutes before stepping back into the CBI, he had narrowly avoided being shot in the head by their latest suspect. He watched her stomp her way to the glass office and tentatively followed, noting the closed blinds.

He stepped in to find her standing on the other side of the office, arms crossed and back turned to him. He had just closed the door and turned around when he had been slammed back into the door. But he hadn't been thinking about the doorknob digging into his spine. He'd only been thinking about the feisty dark-haired agent who'd quite literally thrown herself at him and was kissing him like he'd disappear if she stopped. The smell, taste, and feel of her was so intoxicating he hadn't thought of anything but kissing her back with just as much passion.

Of course, had he known that she would have smacked him upside the head while he was trying to regain his breath, still reeling from the sensory overload, he would have thought a bit more about it. Looking back now, he chuckled to himself. Only Lisbon could kiss a man within an inch of his life then slap him and call him an idiot (in a much more colorful way, of course). She'd made the first move, a thought that always brought a big smile to his face. The woman who'd always been so nervous about initiating contact had been the first to kiss him. Her excuse? He'd nearly died.

A week after that, he'd taken off his ring with the help of Michele. It certainly hadn't been easy but it needed to be done.

Ten months ago, he'd sold the Malibu house. He'd talked it over with the good doctor for some time. She had helped him gain the courage to do it. Lisbon had given him the strength.

Nine months ago, he'd taken the glorious next step to Teresa's bed…at least figuratively…and then literally.

Six months ago, he'd moved into her apartment.

Three months ago, he'd bought the ring that sat in his pocket at this very moment and every moment since he bought it.

A few hours ago, he'd set up the apartment with way too many candles and rose petals than Lisbon would like but not nearly as many as she deserved.

So, now, he stood here in the same spot he had a year ago. They had come a long way since then and he couldn't wait to go even further. He couldn't wait to start their forever. He looked at the time on his cell phone and decided it was time to get his soon-to-be fiancée. He descended the stairs from the attic and headed to her office. When he got there, she was putting papers in her bag.

She turned around and offered him a small smile. "Hey."

"Hey," he returned and held out her blazer for her. She slid her arms through and they headed home.

Jane opened the door to their apartment and watched her reaction, a small gasp and a completely shocked expression. Everything was just as he left it, candles burning on every surface and rose petals littering the floor. She looked at him with the same wondrous, disbelieving expression she had when she'd found a pony in her office for her birthday. "Uh, did I miss an anniversary or something?"

He chuckled to himself. "Well, my dear, it is technically an anniversary of something but that particular thing isn't exactly worth celebrating so no, you did not miss an anniversary."

She stepped into the apartment and took in her surroundings as Jane stepped in and locked the door. He took off his shoes and jacket and headed to the kitchen to get the dinner he'd prepped and kept warm in the stove. He set two places and was pouring the wine when Lisbon stepped in the kitchen. "Okay, what have you done that's so bad that you felt the need to make it up to me?" she smirked though half truly worried he had possibly lost both of their jobs.

He smiled to himself. A perfect opening though not quite what he had in mind. He had planned this particular speech knowing she'd ask this question at some point. "Knowing what I wanted for ten years but never going after it. Coming in between you and your job. Lying to you. Letting you go out with men who were nowhere near good enough for you."

"So you're good enough for me?" she smirked.

He smiled as he fixed her with an intent gaze. "Not even close. I know I'm a broken man, Teresa, even if you and the good doctor have helped me put some of the pieces together. I'll always be a little broken but you make me feel whole, as cliché as it may sound." He took a deep breath before continuing. "And, I'm hoping you'll always be there to make me feel that way because it can't be anyone else but you."

"Patrick, we've been over this. I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be here for you."

"I know that, my dear, and I thank you. Now, all I'm asking is that we make it official." He took the box from his pocket and set it on the table. As she stared wordlessly (and somewhat terrified though he tried to convince himself to see past that part) at the small box, he guided her to her chair and gently set her down before sitting in his own. "Teresa, I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered, her eyes never leaving the box.

"Will you marry me?" He opened the box to reveal a modest emerald surrounded by small diamonds on a thin band of silver.

"Yes," she answered as she turned her now watery gaze to meet his. She suppressed a laugh as she saw relief wash over his face. The great Patrick Jane that played golf with mob bosses and spent most of his CBI career chasing after a serial killer was scared of her reaction to a marriage proposal? The man really did not give her a lot of credit. She'd found the receipt two months ago when washing clothes. She'd known he would propose; she just hadn't expected him to litter her floor with a garden full of flower petals or the many fire hazards he'd left in their apartment with no one here. He was right in thinking it wasn't her particular style; but he was also right in that it was absolutely breathtaking. Not that she'd ever tell him of course; his ego was big enough as it is.

They both smiled as he slipped the ring on her finger, oblivious to her thoughts. Who knew they'd be here and engaged a year after that fateful phone call? The phone call that had changed everything. Of course she knew; the team had just turned in the last of the paperwork today from rounding up Red John's followers. Again, the man did not give her enough credit. He wasn't as great at keeping secrets as he thought. Nor was he as good at knowing all of her secrets as he said he was. At least the secret she learned in the ladies room at work today. If he had known, he wouldn't have poured wine tonight.

He kissed her soft and sweet and pulled back to smile seductively at her. "Shall we head straight to the celebration or would you like to wine and dine first?"

She smiled back. "Wine and dine; but I think we should skip the wine or at least I should." He looked at her a little confused. She took a deep breath and let it out. "There's something I need to tell you. And I haven't been keeping it from you, so don't get nervous thinking you lost your touch. I just found out today." She wrung her hands as he looked at her, waiting. "Patrick, I'm pregnant."

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><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed this story. It was my first Mentalist fanfic. I know it seemed early for an ending but there was a lot to cover and I didn't want a lot of filler that I thought would just bring down the quality of the story.<strong>


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